


Trophy

by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Blowjobs, College Student Stiles, Come Marking, Confused Stiles, Fluff, Good Peter Hale, Happy Ending, Humor, Lawyer Peter Hale, Light Angst, M/M, Marriage, Model Scott, Model Stiles, Mpreg, Non-Evil Peter Hale, Older/younger relationships, Peter Hale/Theo Raeken (previous), Unplanned Pregnancy, fast paced relationships, one-night stand, past infidelity (not Steter), trophy husbands, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-15 21:27:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10557970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rjaejoo/pseuds/FlyAwayMeow
Summary: Stiles is a model and best man to Scott. Peter is a hot-shot attorney and best man to Chris. Both thought it was one hell of a one-night stand. An unexpected run-in five weeks later begins the start of a relationship that suggests there could be something more between them.





	

* * *

 

Stiles reluctantly became conscious at the sound of Scott’s raised voice. The man frowned in confusion at the noise as he struggled to wake up. A shout of disgruntlement made him lift up his head where he blearily squinted at the sight of his best friend and his best friend’s new husband Chris as they stood in the doorway of his room.

“Stiles!”

“Scott?”

“Peter,” rumbled Chris.

The amused, “Chris,” from behind had Stiles twisting to squint over his shoulder where Peter stood freshly showered with only a towel draped low across his hips.

“Peter!”

“Scott.”

“Chris!” Scott called out vehemently as he turned to his new husband.

“Chris?” Stiles muttered sleepily around a yawn.

“Stiles,” replied Chris with amusement as his husband made a choked off strangled noise from beside him.

“Good grief,” Stiles groaned as he face-planted back into his pillow. He groped for the covers around his hips and pulled them over his head.

Stiles slowly drifted back off to the muffled indignant squawks from Scott. The slamming of the door startled him and he moaned back into the bed as he pressed his face more solidly into his pillow. Just shortly after, the bed dipped next to his hip and the bedding was tugged back. The wet drag of a tongue along his spine had his hips rising to follow and in a moment the very much energetic hot older lawyer, Peter his mind supplied, Chris’ best man, slid back into him.

Soon the easy undulation of their bodies changed and Peter knelt behind him, Stiles’ hips drawn up high in the air. As Peter's thrusting picked up in pace, Stiles gripped the sheet underneath them as he gasped out in pleasure.

The night before had been a non-stop breakneck of dizzying pleasure after the two had met for the first time and realized they each had the same level of animal attraction to one another. It didn’t take long for them to exchange mutually enthusiastic blowjobs in the men’s dressing room followed by a heated make out session as they licked each other’s mouths clean.

During the newlywed's first dance, it was Peter’s finger up his ass as they rubbed against each other in a shadowy corner of the balcony away from everyone. The lawyer had pressed his mouth against Stiles’ ear and told him in explicit detail about all the filthy things he planned to do to the young model later that night as Stiles had whined into his neck with anticipation.

Stiles remembered how he had gasped out broken whimpers as Peter took him against the door to the suite and then later as they fucked on the living room floor. Another time Peter had him draped across the sofa as he ate him out, and the last was when Stiles rode him on the bed at dawn.

A smack against his ass brought Stiles back to the present and he moaned in response.

“Stay with me,” Peter commanded with a snarl as he pulled the younger man back harder on his cock.

“Peter,” Stiles groaned as he splayed his legs further apart in a futile attempt to get his dick closer to the bed.

“Come on, sweetheart, I want to see you fall apart again,” Peter panted from behind as he suddenly dropped his body back on top of Stiles and forced the model closer to the bed. The lawyer reached under and grabbed at Stiles, and Stiles cried out with a shattered cry as he begged Peter to let him come. A few moments later Stiles’ orgasm crashed through him, and Peter pulled out abruptly. Stiles cried out half in surprise and partially in anticipation of what would happen next. The sound of the condom being removed and tossed aside was soon followed by a deep groan from Peter as he released himself across Stiles’ back and ass. Stiles laughed breathlessly into the pillow as he relaxed further, unconcerned of the come as it chilled on his back. He shuddered as Peter rubbed the mess into his skin before he trailed a line with his fingers down Stiles’ back and between his cheeks where they dipped back into his body. Stiles bit his lip and hummed as Peter eased his fingers in and out of his ass.

Lazily Stiles shifted off the wet spot he’d made and sunk back into the bedding with a smug smile. The last thing he felt before he drifted off was the feel of a warm wet washcloth and Peter’s goatee against the back of his neck as the man placed kisses along his skin.

 

***

 

“That's usually the look people give me when they find out I model on the side. Not when they find out I'm a student here,” Stiles said with amusement five weeks later when he accidentally ran into Peter outside a coffee shop near the college campus he attended for classes.

Peter raised his brow and tipped his head. “Fair enough,” he conceded to the young man. “And how long have you been going here?” he asked shrewdly.

Stiles shrugged. “Since I was seventeen. Early admissions, yadda-yadda,” he flippantly added with a wave of his hand and a smirk.

“What are you doing here? Trolling for twinks?”

Peter threw back his head with a sharp laugh, unsurprised at the man’s sassiness. He stepped up into Stiles’ personal space and crowded close. “Depends, sweetheart,” he purred against the younger man’s ear, “on if you're offering.”

Stiles shuddered at the hot breath against his skin and the light nip to his earlobe. He made a small noise as he inclined his head against Peter’s lips, mouth slightly opened as the man sucked lightly at the skin behind his ear.

“My apartment is a few blocks away,” he groaned as he pushed closer to the older guy, unconcerned of anyone who watched.

“My car is just down the street,” Peter replied hoarsely as he gripped Stiles’ hip tightly with his hand.

Stiles nodded his head and nuzzled under the man’s jaw where he nipped little kisses before he nestled his face in the man’s neck. “Lead the way,” he suggested in a muffled voice.

Peter palmed the side of Stiles’ face and pressed a kiss against his head. “I might need a minute before I can walk,” he admitted and Stiles snorted in delight.

“Glad to know I wasn't the only one affected that night,” he teased and Peter hummed an agreement.

 

***

 

“Are you and Peter really together?” Scott mumbled around the spoon of his fro-yo after a shoot had wrapped early for them.

Stiles shrugged nonchalantly. “I think we’re both just having fun. Why? Worried?” he teased Scott.

“No,” Scott denied in defense. “I just think you guys are kind of moving fast.”

Under Stiles judgmental look, the other model squirmed. “Okay, that’s probably a little hypocritical,” he admitted sheepishly as he scraped at the edge of his dish.

“Uh-huh, just a bit,” Stiles replied dryly. “Maybe if you and Chris had waited 6 more months to round it out to a full year from the start to finish race to the altar you could use that reasoning,” he pointed out in amusement.

Scott snorted in response and grinned at his friend. “Fine,” he conceded as he waved his spoon at Stiles. “I just think you should be careful,” he cautioned with more seriousness. “Peter likes the bachelor lifestyle. Like, a lot.”

At Stiles raised brows Scott stared back before he finally sighed in defeat. “And you aren’t any more interested in matrimony than he is either,” he admitted.

“Correct,” Stiles stated firmly as he sucked up more of his smoothie. “Relax, I’m more focused on my studies right now, and Peter is just there to help relieve the stress when things get a little too much. Peter’s said just as much to me,” Stiles said offhandedly as he lounged back in his chair.

At Scott’s continued look of skepticism, Stiles rolled his eyes. “Okay, mom, I’ll be careful.”

 

***

 

It's an easy arrangement between the two of them. More and more Stiles found himself over at Peter’s place. It was to the point that Scott would just call Peter's cell if Stiles wasn't answering his own. Neither man really spoke about it. Stiles figured why rock the boat. Great sex and companionship are always nice hand in hand, who would be stupid to mess with that?

“You should just sublet your apartment,” Peter suggested out of the blue one evening and Stiles looked up dazedly from where he was highlighting his textbook.

He looked around the kitchen and pointed at himself in confusion. Peter nodded his head and Stiles spit out the cap of his marker into his hand.

“You practically live here already,” Peter pointed out and Stiles looked down at himself and around the room again in bewilderment.

Peter rolled his eyes before he continued. “Scott says you have a mutual friend, a makeup artist named Kira who is looking for a place.”

“We do?” Stiles asked with his brow wrinkled as he sifted through his memories for this bit of info.

Peter snorted. “I believe you were geeking out over the latest child psychology paper which has the medical community all abuzz when he mentioned it,” he said dryly.

Stiles blinked at him in surprise. Peter walked over and dropped a kiss on top of his head. “Think about it,” he instructed the model before he walked out of the room.

Stiles scratched his head and looked around the room lost in thought.

 

***

 

Stiles stepped up to Peter and slid his arm around the lawyer’s waist. He gave the camera his trademark smirk while the photographer snapped a few shots for whatever magazine he worked for. Peter placed a kiss against his lover’s temple and Stiles flexed his fingers in response.

After the photographer thanked them and wandered off to find more celebrities to photograph, Stiles turned to look at Scott.

“So when did you get here?” he asked and Scott grinned sheepishly back at him.

“About ten minutes ago. You?”

Stiles gave him a wry look. “An hour ago,” he said dryly. “You know, the time we originally agreed upon.”

Scott laughed and rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

Stiles gave a little shrug. A call from somewhere behind them has Stiles twist around to look. An attractive, slightly older model named Theo he had just recently shot the new Chanel campaign with cut through the crowd, hand raised in greeting as he approached.

“Hey man,” Theo called out and Stiles grinned in return.

“Theo, buddy,” Stiles returned as he disentangled himself from Peter and stepped over to greet the man. “I wasn't expecting you here,” Stiles continued as he slapped the newcomer on his back.

Theo smiled back. “I wasn't planning on being here, but my agent called last minute and told me to get my ass down here,” he laughed.

Stiles dropped his hand from the other guy’s back and turned back to his group. “Here, let me introduce you. This here is my best buddy Scott, his husband Chris Argent, Peter Hale and of course the always lovely Lydia Martin,” Stiles spoke. “Everyone this is Theo Raeken. He just shot the recent Chanel campaign with me a few weeks ago.”

The group nodded and gave a few cool murmurs of greeting in return. Stiles frowned at their behavior. When he opened his mouth to speak, Theo hurried to say something first.

“Actually, I have an ulterior motive for stopping by, Hayden wanted to introduce you to someone and sent me over to retrieve you,” Theo said before he turned to the group. “I hope you don't mind if I steal him away?” he added with an innocent smile.

Stiles raised his brow at this request, his body already turned away to skim the crowd for Theo’s agent before the model had even finished speaking.

Scott exchanged a look with Chris before they both glanced over to Peter who stared coldly at Theo. Theo gave the man a stiff, uncomfortable look before he turned back to Stiles, who had his back to them.

“Sure, I can meet whomever. I have to talk to Hayden anyway,” Stiles said in a distracted voice. “Where did you say she was?” he asked over his shoulder.

Theo pointed back toward the direction he had come from. The model stepped up behind Stiles and casually placed his hand on the other man’s elbow. “Follow me,” he said with a charming smile on his face.

“I'll catch you later, Scotty, everyone,” Stiles called over his shoulder as he weaved his way through the crowd.

 

Normally a stickler for condoms every time they had sex, Peter just ignored them this time, too irritated at how the night had gone when Stiles had walked off with Theo earlier in the evening. Peter scowled at the memory of the other man.

Without hesitation, he yanked Stiles’ pants down and crowded against the younger man’s body. Stiles gasped in response and pushed his ass back against Peter’s groin with eagerness, his head tilted back to rest against Peter’s shoulder as he looped an arm around the older man’s neck to hold him in place. It doesn't take long for Peter to be three fingers deep in Stiles and the model choked as Peter twisted his fingers sharply inside him with each thrust of his hand.

With a quick pull that made Stiles drop his head forward with a moan, Peter withdrew his hand. He tugged his own pants down a little further to expose himself more before he reached over and grabbed the bottle of lube and snapped the lid open again. Quickly he poured some into his hand and ran it along the length of his cock until it was completely coated. Not wanting to waste any more time, Peter lined himself up with Stiles before he pushed himself in roughly.

Stiles groaned at the intrusion, forced up on his toes as Peter swiftly pushed into his body. When almost seated completely, Peter grasped Stiles by the hips and pulled him down sharply. Both men groaned at the sensation and paused in their movements. Stiles’ body spasmed, the muscles tightly clenched around Peter’s cock as the man pressed tightly against his back.

“Okay,” Stiles gasped out once his body started to relax more, “you can move,” he said shakily.

Peter pulled out and slammed back into the younger man’s body as he set a punishing pace. Stiles tried to keep up with Peter as he pushed harder into him with each thrust. Small little noises fell from Stiles’ mouth as he hung his head and gripped the counter tightly. Soon Stiles gave up and just tried to keep braced so he didn't smash his face or his dick into the kitchen island.

A hand wrapped around his cock made Stiles cry out and before long he had choked out a loud shout as his climax hit. The force of his orgasm had his toes curled in his shoes and he whimpered out as his body shook with his release. Peter grunted behind him as he pressed close, body curled tight along Stiles’ as he released deep in the man. The only sounds that filled the air were their harsh breathing as they both came down from their releases. Stiles looked dazedly down to where his hands were fisted tightly pressed against the counter. Slowly he straightened them out as he tried to bring his breathing back under control. Peter was still plastered against his back, hot, moist breaths stirred the hair along Stiles’ nape and Stiles shuddered as it tickled. After several minutes Peter slowly straightened up and withdrew from Stiles.

He automatically reached down and tugged the younger man’s pants up, careful to tuck Stiles’ cock back into his underwear. Peter was less careful with himself, his pants pulled up just enough to hang on his hips before he stepped back a step for Stiles to turn around.

Peter leaned forward with heavy-lidded eyes and brushed his lips against the corner of Stiles’ mouth. “Bed,” he murmured as he pulled away and Stiles quickly nodded his head in mute agreement, heavy breaths gasped from between his lips as he still struggled to control his breathing.

Peter guided Stiles through the rest of the darkened apartment to the bedroom and Stiles began to tug his clothes off once they crossed the threshold. Peter walked into the bathroom where he began his nighttime ritual and Stiles stood awkwardly next to the bed, unsure if he should just crawl in or go into the bathroom to clean up. After a moment he climbed into the bed. He’d just wait until Peter finished before he went in he thought tiredly. By the time Peter exited the bathroom, Stiles was already fast asleep.

 

Stiles woke up as Peter nosed at the back of his neck. Sleepily he reached behind and pulled Peter’s face closer to his favorite spot that he liked kissed and the lawyer obliged. Soon Peter draped his body along the back of Stiles and the model shifted to accommodate him better.

Stiles shivered when he felt Peter palm his ass, and he pushed back when he felt the drag of Peter’s cock between his cheeks. As Peter slid in, Stiles groaned lowly and lifted up into the man. He slid his legs apart as much as Peter’s body allowed before the man lay across him again.

It was a slow build up of pleasure as their bodies shifted and rocked together. Peter laced their fingers together and when he hit Stiles’ prostate just right the younger man tightened his hold with a muffled whine made into his pillow.

Peter was the first to reach his climax as he pressed his open mouth against Stiles’ neck and gasped out his release, body pushed tight against the man below him. Without untangling them, he shifted back just far enough to pull Stiles on his side and reach for the man’s cock. Soon Stiles pressed back against Peter, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he made broken noises at the buildup of his oncoming orgasm.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Peter murmured in Stiles’ ear. “Just like that,” he coaxed as Stiles bowed back against him, muscles seized as his orgasm crashed through him.

As he shook through his release, Stiles whimpered out, hand tightened in a white-knuckled grip with Peter. When he came down from the pleasure and began to relax, he slowly loosened his hold on the man.

Peter continued to murmur in his ear the entire time; words of encouragement interspersed with praise. Hazily Stiles turned his head and nuzzled at Peter’s mouth and the older man pressed little kisses against him in return. Stiles sighed out a contented hum as he snuggled back as far as possible into Peter’s hold. Peter wiped his hand off on the corner of a sheet and pushed it away from them. Grip tight, he pulled their bodies clear of any wayward wet spots and together they dozed back off still tightly intertwined.

 

***

 

Three weeks later, Stiles woke up from his nap in New York City still exhausted. He rubbed his face before he grabbed his watch to check the time. It was only a quarter to noon, still okay for a late checkout. Stiles sat up with care, but a wave of vertigo hit and he laid back down. He swallowed hard as nausea overwhelmed him. Okay, maybe it's the flu bug he thought as he breathed with caution through his mouth. He was originally supposed to fly back home today, but he really didn't feel up to it. After several careful open-mouthed breaths to calm the nausea, he grabbed his phone and called Lydia.

“Hey Lyds, I'm not feeling too well, think I'm coming down with a bug or something,” Stiles croaked out into the phone. “Can you cancel my flight and extend my stay here?” he asked, eyes closed tight as he fought another wave of nausea. He swallowed hard to keep the bile at bay.

“Yeah, no I really don't think I can make my flight. I'm going to try to drink some water and go back to sleep,” he said with a grimace. “Yeah, I'll let you know when I think I'm up to flying. No, I don't think I need to see the doctor. Some of the crew members on sight had been talking about a bug that was going around locally. I probably just caught it.”

 

Peter drummed his fingers in irritation and checked his phone again. Stiles should have called earlier to let him know when his flight would arrive so Peter could send a car to fetch him. So far there was only radio silence from the other man’s end, and Peter was unhappy.

Another twenty minutes passed before he finally hit the call button to Stiles’ number. A muffled slurred response greeted him from the other end and Peter gritted his teeth in annoyance.

“Stiles, where are you?” he asked sharply.

“Whaat…” Stiles slurred out in reply and Peter's hand tightened around his phone.

“Goddammit, Stiles,” Peter snapped in irritation and a little worry. “Where the fuck are you? I've been waiting for your call since one.”

“Peter?”

“Stiles. Where. Are. You?”

“I'm still at the hotel in New York. I think I caught the flu that's been going around here,” he rasped out. “I didn't think I'd last a flight without throwing up so I called Lydia and asked her to cancel my flight and extend my reservation,” he explained tiredly.

The sound of a yawn cut through. “I'm sorry. I meant to call, but I must have fallen asleep right after I hung up with her,” he mumbled out, voice faded out at the end.

A small groan carried over the phone and Peter frowned in concern. It sounded like Stiles had gotten up and a moment later there was a thud and some swearing.

“Stiles!”

“Sorry, sorry, tripped over my suitcase,” Stiles said with a tired sigh and Peter rubbed his forehead.

“When do you think you’ll be back?”

“I'm not sure. I told Lydia I'd let her know when I felt good enough to fly. For now, I'm just sleeping and drinking plenty of fluids. I can't seem to keep anything down and I'm exhausted,” he admitted to Peter.

“Have you seen a doctor yet?”

“Nah, it's just a bug, came up suddenly this morning. Probably won't last long. Some of the crew was talking about it going around. They said rest and plenty of fluids. Doctors can't do anything.”

Peter hummed in reply as he tapped his finger against his blotter. “Well, I'm sorry to hear that. If you don't feel better in a day I'll fly out to see you. I have clients in that area I'm supposed to meet with anyways. We can just meet earlier than planned. We can come back home together after,” he said is a softer voice.

“Okay, yeah, I'll let you know,” Stiles said again, the exhaustion clear in his tone. “Thanks and sorry for not calling earlier.”

“It's fine,” Peter said as he tapped his finger against his desktop. “I was just worried something had happened. It's not normal for you to behave this way,” he added gently as he started to draw little circles on the desktop.

“Yeah, no, you're right. Not normal. Just—” Stiles yawned again. “Sorry. Just really, really tired...”

“Well, I'll let you go then, get some more rest, okay. Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” Peter said into the phone.

 

The next morning Stiles woke up refreshed and a bit confused. His body was a little tired from the random bouts of vomiting the day before, but otherwise, he felt pretty good. He checked his head and didn’t feel a fever, so he shrugged and looked into finding a flight back home for later that day. Chalking it up to a 12-hour bug, Stiles didn’t think anything more of the experience.

 

***

 

Stiles simultaneously felt nausea and hysterics as they rose within him. Pregnant! What the fuck was he going to do, he thought in disbelief. There was already enough speculation about how Peter was his sugar daddy and now this. Everyone would label him a gold-digger for sure he thought miserably. It's one of the reasons why he didn't like to flaunt their relationship all over social media.

Stiles looked blankly at Dr. Deaton when he returned to the room. The man smiled with kindness at him. “Do you have any questions Stiles?” he asked gently and Stiles stared back at him blankly.

Stiles opened his mouth to respond and could only make a clicking noise as no words came out. He cleared his throat several times before he tried again.

“So are you absolutely positive I'm pregnant? As in, there is no mistake that this could just be a tumor?”

“A tumor with a heartbeat?” Deaton asked with a raised brow and Stiles winced at the reply.

Stiles hid his face in his hands and groaned aloud.

Deaton shuffled some papers around. “Stiles, it's not the end of the world. Just a slight detour for the next several months.”

“Years,” came Stiles muffled reply from behind his hands.

“I'm sorry?” Deaton replied politely.

“Years, slight detour for years,” Stiles said tiredly as he dropped his hands from his face. “I hear kids tend to stick around for 18 years or so,” he said with a grimace.

Deaton smiled in amusement. “Yes, and sometimes even longer,” he teased him and Stiles groaned back into his hands yet again. In another minute Stiles was face first in Deaton’s trash can as he threw up.

 

Stiles drove around aimlessly through the city, not ready to return back to the apartment. Ever since he had moved in with Peter, he had lost any place to run away to when things got uncomfortable with the man. Stiles palmed his stomach and wondered the best way to tell Peter. Everyone knew the man was a confirmed bachelor. Hell, even the models in Japan two months ago had commented on their dating status Stiles thought with grumpiness. With a resigned sigh, Stiles turned the car around to head back towards home, mind lost deep in thought.

 

Peter heard the door click open signaling Stiles return. The car was gone, which was unusual. Maybe the man had a last-minute session somewhere or a meeting he didn't feel like using the driver for Peter thought idly as he poured two glasses of wine to go with their dinner.

As they sat down for dinner Stiles tiredly pushed the food around his plate listlessly. The idea of any food made his stomach turn and the acidic smell of the wine didn't help when he sniffed it earlier.

“Are you still feeling sick?” Peter asked casually and Stiles looked up at him blankly. Peter gave a pointed look at Stiles’ plate and the man glanced down. A flush rose in his cheeks when he realized the mess he'd made of his dinner.

“Yes,” Stiles said slowly, “I don't really feel up to eating. Sorry about that,” he said with a grimace.

Peter hummed back a sound of acknowledgment. “Have you gone to the doctor yet?  It's been two weeks since this bug hit you. It's a bit extreme, even for the flu,” Peter said with concern before he took another bite of his fish.

Stiles closed his eyes and swallowed. The wafting scent of fish made his stomach clench again with a vengeance.

“Stiles?”

“Excuse me,” Stiles said as he fumbled to put his napkin back on the table as he pushed back from the table abruptly. The chair clattered back from the force and threatened to tip over.

“Stiles!” Peter called out in alarm, but Stiles headed for the bathroom where he barely made it inside before he threw up.

As his stomach heaved, he thought of what the hell he would say. A warm hand curled around the back of his neck and Stiles jumped in surprise.

“Here, a glass of water,” Peter offered and held up a glass of water in front of Stiles’ face.

Stiles nodded his thanks and took the water to rinse out his mouth. With Peter's help, he shakily stood. Peter flushed the toilet for him and helped him over to the sink.

Stiles stared blankly at the toothbrush he picked up. Peter squeezed some toothpaste on it for him and Stiles blinked in surprised.

“Thanks,” he muttered at the man before he started to robotically brush his teeth.

Peter rubbed circles on Stiles back and Stiles felt himself start to relax into the familiar soothing touch.

When he finished and the toothbrush was back in its holder, Stiles gripped the edge of the sink tightly in his hands. Peter stepped up behind Stiles, his groin pressed lightly against Stiles’ ass.

“Love?”

Stiles took a deep breath, too afraid to look up.

“I'm pregnant,” he blurted out.

“Is it mine?”

Stiles flinched at the question. “Yes, of course,” he said with hollowness as he felt horror begin to creep in him at this response.

Peter placed a light kiss to the nape of Stiles’ neck.

“Come to bed, we can talk about this later,” Peter said as he stepped back and Stiles just stood there frozen.

“Stiles, bed, now,” Peter said firmly as he pulled at the model’s arm and Stiles numbly followed him, eyes glued to where Peter held his wrist.

 

The next morning Stiles woke to find Peter was already gone to work. He laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling. Peter's words from last night circled his head and Stiles was horrified to feel tears start to gather and fall. Angrily, he dashed them away, hands pressed against his eyes as he took deep breaths to calm himself down. He needed a plan. While Peter didn't flat out reject him last night, it was close enough to make Stiles rethink their somewhat still undefined relationship and their future. First things first, he needed to pee and maybe try to get some food in him. Then he'd take a look at his upcoming schedule and see if maybe he could take a trip back home to see his dad. He thought about going to Scott, but Chris is Peter's best friend and it might make things awkward and that wasn't fair to anyone.

After he managed to choke down some toast and a small glass of water, Stiles grabbed his phone and scrolled through his calendar. His next shoot wasn't for another two months and he rubbed at his mouth as he tried to think if he needed to cancel it. The broken contract fees alone were enough to almost send him back to the toilet.

It looked like his schedule was fairly open and Stiles thought about how he'd get back home. While flying would be quicker, the idea of someone posting on Twitter about him throwing up in first class haunted him. Instead, he decided a road trip would be better. He could rent a vehicle and take some time to drive back home. Maybe split the journey between two days, so he wasn't pushing himself too much. The alone time with himself would be good for him to think about what needed to happen next if he was going to be a dad.

With that decided Stiles took his plate and glass to the sink and cleaned up after himself. He dialed Lydia's number and left a message with her secretary that he would be away to visit his dad for a bit and would be out of touch for a while. After this was accomplished, he went to pack up some items for the trip. Traveling so much for work made this routine and before long Stiles was packed and ready to go.

Stiles glanced back at the apartment before he pulled the door shut and wondered if this would be one of the last times he'd be here. He scoffed at this melodramatic idea and rolled his eyes in disgust at himself. Regardless of how he and Peter ended up, Stiles knew he'd be fine. With this thought, he wheeled his suitcase to the elevator and headed down to go pick up a car from the agency.

 

Stiles was in a lovely little bed-and-breakfast along the coast when Peter called. Must have just gotten home, he thought with a grimace and contemplated not answering for a moment. As tempted as he was to avoid his _lover? Partner? Sugar daddy? Baby daddy_ Stiles knew that was too petty, even for him. Instead, he cleared his throat and swiped to answer.

“Hello?”

“Stiles, where the fuck are you?” Peter demanded in worry and frustration.

Stiles cleared his throat again. “I'm in a lovely B&B for the evening before I hit the road again in the morning,” he replied calmly even though his heart raced in his chest.

A heavy silence fell over the line and the two men listened to each other breathe.

“And how long are you planning on being gone?” Peter asked quietly.

Stiles shrugged and then realized the ridiculousness of his response since Peter couldn't see. “I'm not sure,” he replied honestly. “I think it's best in light of recent events that I—” Stiles paused as he chose his next words carefully,”—take some time to think some things over before I make any decisions.”

“I see,” Peter responded after a moment in a neutral tone. “And do I get a say in any of these decisions?”

Stiles hummed for a moment. “Yes, maybe, I'm not sure. That's what I need to figure out,” Stiles admitted with a sigh.

Another tense silence fell across the line.

Stiles sighed again, his shoulders now slumped in exhaustion. “Look, Peter, I’m keeping the baby, but I don't know much after that. I'm going home and I'm going to think things over,” he said gently.

A rough exhale sounded over the phone from Peter's end. “You're keeping the baby,” he echoed and Stiles nodded his head.

“Yes,” he replied with firmness as he rubbed his face. “Look, Peter, I'm tired and need to get some sleep. I'll be in touch later, okay.”

Not waiting to see if Peter would protest, Stiles hit the end call button. He felt guilty for hanging up on the man, but his already fragile ego wasn't ready to handle a rejection if Peter reacted that way. He rubbed his mouth in uneasiness and decided not to dwell on Peter's response to the idea of keeping their baby.

 

***

 

“So let me get this straight,” Stiles’ dad began. “You've been in a ‘kind of a little bit undefined' relationship for the past 6 months with a notorious self-proclaimed bachelor for life, who's closer to my age than yours, who you moved in with after Scott got married to said bachelor's best friend, kept your relationship purposely low-key so people wouldn't think you were a gold-digger looking for a sugar daddy, somehow managed to get knocked up 10 weeks ago and are now unsure of what to do even though said baby-daddy hasn't kicked you to the curb.” Stiles’ dad pinched the bridge of his nose when Stiles nodded his head guiltily. “Well, son, you sure don't do anything by halves do you,” he said with a sigh, hands on his hips.

Noah Stilinski stared at his only kid. “Okay, buddy, here's what we're going to do. Have you called what's-his-name?”

“Peter,” Stiles mumbled.

“Have you called Peter yet to let him know you made it safe?”

Stiles hunched down a little and shook his head in the negative.

“Okay, well you're going to do that first. You owe the man this much, at least. It's his kid too,” he said with a pointed look and Stiles nodded his head meekly.

“Next,” Noah continued, “you'll eat some dinner while I make up your bed.”

Stiles opened up his mouth to protest but shut it immediately at his dad's stern look.

“Call, food and then bed, Stiles. We can talk about everything else tomorrow,” he continued gently. “Come here, kid,” he said as he drew his son into a hug. “It'll be okay,” he promised as he rubbed his back.

Stiles nodded against his dad's shoulder, as tears pricked his eyes.

 

The phone call to Peter was both awkward and not. Stiles felt nervous as he waited for Peter to pick up, but it quickly eased into relief at the familiar sound of the other man’s voice.

“Stiles, sweetheart. Is everything okay?”

Stiles cleared his throat. “Yeah, I just wanted to let you know I made it to my dad's.” He picked at a loose thread on the couch cushion absent-mindedly.

“Oh, okay. Are you feeling okay? Is the baby okay?” Peter asked after a slight moment of hesitation.

Stiles ducked his head and murmured a quiet noise of agreement. “Yeah, we’re good,” he continued quietly as he looked down at his still very flat stomach. He laid his hand flat against himself and studied it.

A silence fell between them and Stiles started to fidget. A faint sigh floated over the line and Stiles tensed up. Peter gave a rueful little laugh. “It's never been this hard between us,” he murmured to Stiles and Stiles swallowed at the lump that suddenly seemed lodged in his throat.

“No,” he said hoarsely, “I think we've been spoiled.”

Peter gave a sharp laugh at this and Stiles flinched at the noise. They both wondered to themselves how they were going to make it all right.

 

The next morning Stiles awoke to a big surprise as a familiar voice could be heard talking with his dad. A feeling of dread welled up in him as he realized that Peter was here in his childhood home most likely at his kitchen table with his dad. Stiles clapped a hand to his mouth and rushed to the bathroom as he gagged, barely making it to the toilet in time.

Several minutes later a familiar hand rubbed circles on his back and when he raised his head up, Noah held a washcloth out. Stiles took it gratefully and wiped his mouth, the sharp acidic taste of bile strong in his throat and mouth.

“You have a visitor downstairs that would like to talk to you,” Noah said calmly.

Stiles nodded his head.

“For what it's worth, he seems like a good man who really does care about you and this baby. I think you need to talk to him and be honest about how you feel, whatever this may be.”

Noah palmed the back of Stiles' head and placed a kiss on his forehead. “I have to go to work. Call me if you need anything, okay.”

“Okay, dad.”

 

Stiles found Peter at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in front of him. The man watched him as he edged into the room and Stiles stopped just inside the doorway. The two stared at one another as neither made a move to break the silence. Stiles fidgeted from nervousness and his hands started to twitch a little out of habit.

After another moment passed, Peter gestured to the chair next to him.

“Please, why don't you sit.”

Stiles warily inched forward and silently drew the chair out as Peter continued to watch him. When he sat, Stiles tried to subtly wipe his damp palms on his thighs.

Peter looked at Stiles. “Do you want something to eat or drink?”

Stiles looked back at him wide-eyed. “No,” he croaked out, “I don't think I can handle anything right now.”

Peter nodded his head in acknowledgment. A look flickered across the older man’s face before Stiles had time to interpret it.

“I need to apologize,” Peter began and Stiles looked at him confused.

Peter grimaced at Stiles. “I didn't handle your announcement the way I should have and it was unfair of me to treat you the way I did,” he continued. Peter hesitated before he continued. “A few years ago, I thought I was in love,” he explained as he moved his cup back and forth between his hands.

Stiles stared at him with wide eyes, a sudden hollow feeling formed in his chest at these words.

Peter looked up at him and gave him a grim smile. “It was a pretty serious relationship, or so I thought,” he continued. “My—” Peter paused a moment and cleared his throat, “—The person I was in a relationship with came to me and said they were pregnant and that I was going to be a dad. I was ecstatic at the news,” Peter admitted. “Unfortunately, to make a long story short, it wasn't true. The baby was someone else’s and my partner had lied, hoping to pass it off as mine. When the truth came out, this person terminated the pregnancy,” Peter said grimly into his coffee cup.

Stiles stared at the man in horror and his stomach churned again.

“Sorry, I need—” and Stiles bolted for the downstairs bathroom to throw up again.

 

Stiles rested his head against the cold porcelain with the hope that the chill would make him feel better. At least he now knew why Peter had asked that awful question he thought dully. If their positions were reversed Stiles probably would have done the same. Didn't make him feel any better, but at least he knew where the man was coming from.

 

***

 

After tentative talks over the next several days, Stiles opted to stay through the holiday with his father and Peter agreed to return to celebrate Thanksgiving with them. As the day came for Peter to return, Stiles was still undecided on where their relationship should go. The two spoke multiple times each day and Peter never went to bed without a goodnight call to Stiles. Stiles himself had avoided too much dwelling on their relationship as it only made him anxious and more nauseous. The night before Peter's arrival Stiles spent the evening more in the bathroom than out, to the point where his dad threatened to take him to the hospital. Stiles only managed to beg his way out of a trip to the ER after explaining his issue with anxiety and vomiting. Noah was still concerned, but Stiles managed to reassure him that it would be better after he saw Peter again.

Thanksgiving arrived and was a low-key, quiet affair, but this time Scott had Chris in tow and Stiles had a tiny silent tagalong in his uterus.

Things that once were easy and casual between him and Peter felt more fraught with tension this time though. At least to Stiles that is. When Stiles caught himself tensed up once again when Peter moved to stand next to him, he realized that maybe he needed to step away and take a breather.

“Stiles?” Chris asked when he noticed the man stiffen next to him.

“Ah,” Stiles started and then caught himself. “Actually,” he said as he reached over and grabbed Peter by the wrist, “I need to speak with Peter for a moment,” he said with a stiff smile. “If you'll excuse us,” he said as he tugged the other man out of the room. Quickly he dragged Peter through the house and out on the back porch.

Stiles pushed Peter on the porch swing and stepped away with his arms held out. “Okay, just stay there,” he said and Peter relaxed back into the seat with a puzzled look.

Stiles rubbed his hands together nervously. “So, have you told Chris? About—,” Stiles gestured toward his midsection.

Peter shook his head in the negative. “I figured I'd wait to see how you wanted to approach breaking the news,” he admitted carefully.

“Oh, okay, well, thanks, that's nice,” Stiles said with surprise. “And for the record, I haven't told Scott yet,” he admitted as he ran his hands through his hair.

Peter nodded his head and waited.

“So,” Stiles said as he cleared his throat. “Ahem, uh…” He scratched his head and wondered if he was being foolish. “I'm having a problem with being with you,” he admitted and as Peter started he held out his hand. “Hold on, let me finish,” he begged. He blew out a deep breath and put his hands on his hips. “So I'm having a problem with you, us, this whole situation,” he stumbled flustered as he gestured between them. “What I mean,” he said, frustrated, “is that even though you explained why you questioned the paternity of the baby and I understand where you are coming from, I don't feel completely comfortable with us going on in this relationship or moving forward more,” he tried to explain.

Peter frowned at this and opened his mouth. Stiles held up his hand again and Peter closed his mouth. “Maybe it's my immaturity or the hormones, or me being fucking crazy at the moment, but in my mind it feels like we’re just jumping the gun and you taking my word I didn't cheat is stupid and trusting this kid is yours is foolish and I think we should wait for a DNA test before we commit further to each other and—” Stiles took a deep breath and groaned into his hands at how crazy he sounded. “Okay, that didn't come out exactly how I planned,” he admitted in a muffled voice as he peeked through his fingers.

Peter rubbed the bridge of his nose. “So let me get this straight,” he clarified, “you understand where I'm coming from, you think I'm crazy to trust you because of my past relationship, and we shouldn't marry until a DNA test proves that's my baby you're carrying,” he said as he pointed at Stiles’ stomach. Stiles nodded his head. Peter continued, “Even though your dates add up to the time we had unprotected sex multiple times and I trust your fidelity?”

“Yes?” Stiles agreed though he sounded unsure.

Peter nodded his head and propped his head in his hand and just stared at Stiles.

Stiles sagged and walked over to sit next to Peter. He flopped against the man and Peter wrapped his arm around him. “I may be over thinking this,” he said in a small voice.

Peter merely hummed before he kissed the top of Stiles’ head. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Stiles sighed and stared out into the darkness as Peter held him.

 

***

 

Stiles has been so confused with everything it felt like. Since the holidays he's gone back and forth on whether to marry Peter now or wait until after the birth. Then there's the whole school and modeling on top of it. Should he continue or stop and pick it up later? He knows that degree will happen, but he's still up in the air about the modeling. Yeah, it's a good source of income, but will the industry still want him once his pregnancy comes out? These are the thoughts that seem to circle Stiles’ brain every day. Most days he's so overwhelmed that all he can do is sit there and binge eat popcorn as he marathoned Marvel movies in Peter’s pajamas.

 

“If you want to continue modeling and studying, or just studying or just modeling or hell, even being a stay-at-home parent, that's fine with me,” Peter voiced casually one afternoon as he walked in and out of their closet. “Neither of us expected this to happen and it's not like we had a just-in-case contingency plan in place for unexpected parenthood.” Peter shrugged as he wadded up the plastic bags to dispose of.

“Yeah, there are certain things I have an opinion on when it comes to raising our kid and I hope we’re in an agreement on this, but if you're healthy and doctor Deaton says it's fine for you and the baby, I really don't have a say in your career choice.” Peter hung up the last of his suits and stepped back out of the closet to shut the door.

Stiles eyed the man warily. “What if I want to keep modeling up until the birth?”

Peter looked at him steadily. “Go for it. If it's not affecting your health I don't see an issue. Many people in many professions do it, why shouldn't you?” he said as he leaned back against the door.

“Look,” Peter started as he straightened up and approached Stiles, “I only ask that you stay safe. Whether it's David driving you places or me or us getting a bigger, more secure vehicle if you want to drive yourself or employing a company bodyguard to escort you, it's completely fine with me. Now, will I always be okay with you in the public? Probably not,” he admitted wryly. “I've seen some of your fans and they are borderline fanatical at times. My eye does tend to twitch at their presence.” Stiles gave the man an amused look at this. “I will try to keep as much of a level head as I can though.”

Stiles reached up and placed his hands on Peter’s hips. “Okay, that seems reasonable,” he conceded. “I'm not sure what I really want to do at the moment,” he admitted. “I’d like to keep modeling and I’d like to keep up with my studies, though I'm thinking I may just finish up this semester and do part-time until the baby is born and probably after for a bit too.”

Peter cupped Stiles’ jaw and rubbed his thumbs across the model’s cheekbones. “Okay, sounds like a plan. And hey,” he said with a smile, “if you change your mind it's okay.”

 

***

 

Stiles isn't sure how he's managed to pull it off, but he was at the end of his latest shoot. The pressure on his bladder was killing him and if the photographer doesn't finish soon he was either going to wet himself or take the photographer out. A foot or a fist nailed his bladder dead on again and Stiles jumped in response.

“Sorry, muscle spasm,” he muttered from the corner of his mouth to Theo.

“Sucks. Okay now?” he murmured back.

“And that's enough guys. Good job!”

Stiles quickly stood up and started to head for the bathrooms but stopped abruptly by someone's hand on his arm.

“Yes?” he questioned tersely to the other model.

“Hey, I wanted to know if you wanted to get a drink after?”

“Sorry, got another appointment,” he said stiffly as he tried not to do the pee-pee dance as the baby hit his bladder again.

“Oh, how about tomorrow?” Theo coaxed with a winning smile.

Stiles grimaced. “I'll have to check my calendar. Ah, sorry, but I need to go,” he said as he tugged his arm out of Theo’s grip. “I'll catch you later, man,” he tossed over his shoulder as he hurried away. When Stiles rounded the corner, he broke into a fast walk to the restroom.

Once inside, he let out a gusty sigh of relief and relaxed.

“What the fuck!” he hissed after a moment as he only peed the equivalent of a quarter of a cup. “You're kidding me! After all that for only that much!” He groaned aloud in frustration and rolled his eyes.

Once he was sure he didn't need to pee anymore, he zipped up and washed his hands.

Back in the dressing room, he hastily changed back into his street clothes. Quickly he grabbed one of his water bottles from his bag he chugged it. He had an ultrasound in less than an hour that he shouldn't have peed before. As he drained the bottle he rounded the corner and almost plowed into Theo.

“Hey, I went to look for you to give you my number, but I couldn't find you.”

“Bathroom. Ate something earlier that didn't agree with me,” Stiles lied as he placed a hand over his stomach with a frown.

Stiles kept walking since Peter and his driver is supposed to be waiting for him. As they stepped outside, Stiles grabbed his shades and put them on.

“Well, this is me,” Stiles said as he gestured to the town car that idled quietly at the curb. “I'll catch you later.”

David pulled the door open and Stiles slid in before Theo could say anything.

“Hey,” Stiles said as he leaned over to give Peter a kiss.

The man deepened it and Stiles whined.

“Knock it off,” he said as he abruptly pulled away and Peter's face froze, a mask of blankness settled abruptly over his features.

Stiles pushed against his stomach and Peter frowned at the motion.

“Fun fact,” Stiles said with a grimace as he shifted and blew out his breath. “The baby has discovered my bladder,” he gritted out and shifted again. “Seriously, stop, kid,” he said in exasperation to his stomach as he wiggled to find a more comfortable arrangement for his body.

Peter picked up his hand and kissed the back of it. “I see now,” he murmured with quiet amusement at Stiles’ behavior.

Stiles bit his lip and tugged his hand back from Peter. Slouched down as much as his seatbelt allowed he started to rub his stomach in gentle circles. After a moment the baby shifted and Stiles let out a sigh of relief. He dropped his head against the seat’s headrest for a moment and closed his eyes.  The model smiled at the slight nudge against his hand.

“Here, give me your hand.”

Curiously Peter looked at him as Stiles guided his hand down and laid it against his stomach.

“Rub it like this,” he instructed the man.

After a moment a slight nudge happened and Peter's face had a look of astonishment.

Stiles looked at him and grinned.

“I really noticed it a few days ago when you were on your business trip. Thought you might like it,” he said smugly.

Peter gave a short laugh when a much stronger movement happened and Stiles huffed out a laugh. “Ok, the kid’s got some moves in there,” he groaned out when it hit his bladder again.

Stiles sighed out and started on his second bottle of water. “Here, I need to drink this bottle to make sure I have enough for the ultrasound. Keep junior distracted so they're hitting you and not my bladder please,” he said dryly as he began to chug his water.

Peter looked at him with fondness and pressed lightly on the stomach. After a moment another nudge pressed against his hand. Peter leaned over and kissed Stiles by his ear.

“Love you,” he whispered into Stiles’ ear.

Stiles hummed back. “Love you too.”

 

“Well, gentlemen, it looks like both daddy and baby are doing well. Are you interested in finding out the sex?” Deaton asked them as he sat back in his chair.

Peter and Stiles looked at one another. Stiles shrugged. “I’d like to know. How about you?”

Peter nodded and both men turned back to the doctor in anticipation. Deaton gave them a benign smile before he placed the wand back on Stiles’ stomach. It took several uncomfortable moments as Deaton manipulated the baby to turn just the right way for him to double-check before he announced the results.

“Congratulations, it looks like you're carrying a little girl.”

Stiles blinked at the tears that gathered in his eyes. “You're sure?” he asked hoarsely and he rapidly continued to blink the moisture away.

Deaton smiled at him. “Absolutely. Here, I'll print off some copies of the ultrasound images for you,” he offered kindly.

Stiles hastily swiped at his eyes and gave a shaky laugh. “Thanks,” he mumbled, embarrassed. He finally looked up at Peter.

Peter smiled at him, tears bright in his eyes as well. The man leaned over and kissed Stiles on his temple.  “Beautiful,” he whispered against the man’s head and Stiles nodded his head in agreement.

 

***

 

“How did you know?” Stiles questioned as he played with Peter’s hand over the slight barely there swell of his stomach.

“Hmm? Know what, sweetheart?” Peter asked as he rubbed a circle on Stiles’ stomach and waited for the faint nudge in response.

“That we could be more?”

Peter placed a kiss behind Stiles’ left ear as he hesitated. The man weighed his response before he answered. “Probably in the middle of that first night we met at Scott and Chris’ wedding,” he admitted.

“Really?” Stiles asked, startled.

“Wow, can you sound any more shocked?” Peter said dryly to the model.

Stiles shrugged. “I just thought I scored the mother of all one-night stands with a hot older daddy,” he said innocently and laughed when Peter nuzzled into his neck with a snort.

Peter mumbled something into his neck and Stiles’ wrinkled his brow in confusion. “What was that?”

“I said,” Peter huffed out, “the first indicator was the morning after when we had sex and I realized I was okay with not being as cautious as I usually am. Then afterward, when we parted without exchanging contact info. and every time Scott and Chris were around I started to look for you, in hopes of it happening again. The accidental meeting outside that bookstore was just meant to be,” he said thoughtfully.

“You dirty old man,” Stiles teased as he grinned against Peter’s hand before he kissed it.

“Hmm...your dirty old man,” Peter reminded him before his hand crept down the front of Stiles’ swim shorts. Stiles raised his leg in caution to block any potential witnesses of his new husband’s hands sudden preoccupation with Stiles very happy dick.

Stiles twisted his head around and whimpered against Peter’s mouth as the man carefully brought him to a quick completion in his swim trunks. As he sagged back against the man, Peter kissed the side of his head as he eased his hand out from beneath the waistband.

“Give me a minute to calm down,” Peter said hoarsely, “and we’ll go out in the water and clean you up.”

Stiles hummed in agreement and sat back in contentment to wait.

 

Stiles started to step away to look at some fresh fruit but stopped as Peter’s hand tightened around his hip. Confused, he turned to look at his husband only to find the man speaking Bali with the stall vendor. Stiles tried to walk away again and again Peter tightened his grip. Stiles frowned down at Peter's hand and reached down to loosen his hold on him. The older man’s response was to tuck Stiles more securely into his side as he continued to haggle over prices. Stiles subtly dug his elbow into the man’s side and Peter responded with a pinch to his hip.

After the vegetables were paid for and they started to walk away Stiles opened his mouth to demand to know what the hell Peter was playing at. Before he could question the man, Peter leaned over and kissed the side of his neck lightly and Stiles’ brain stuttered to a halt. The pregnant model huffed out a breath in irritation at his hormones response to Peter's actions. He turned his head to the side to try again and instead met Peter's mouth for a kiss that quickly deepened and left him breathless. Catcalls sound out from around them and Stiles blushed as Peter threw him a wink and a grin.

 

“So I take it you and Peter are having a good time,” Scott laughed over the phone.

“Yeah dude, why wouldn't we be? It's our honeymoon,” Stiles said absent-mindedly as he wiped down the kitchen counter.

“Oh, I know and so does everyone else,” Scott said with another laugh. “Apparently your fans are going ga-ga over how sickly sweet you guys look and sexy too,” Scott tacked on offhandedly with another laugh.

“Fans?” Stiles asked, confused. “Why would my fans know? Did you post something and tag me?”

“No…” Scott drew out slowly. “Do you not know? Stiles, seriously, as soon as Peter filed your marriage license the internet was blowing up all about you, and I quote, secret romantic elopement and bagging of the last hot sugar daddy, end quote,” Scott said with a chortle.

Stiles felt his stomach churn at Scott's words and he stopped wiping down the counter.

“Oh, I didn't even think about the license,” he said as he swallowed hard. “Ah, hey, Scott, buddy, Peter's motioning for me to join him outside,” Stiles lied. “I gotta go, it was great talking to you. I'll call you when we get back. Give my best to Chris, ‘kay.”

Stiles ended the call and looked down at his hand where it trembled against the counter. Quickly he laid it flat and pushed down hard to stop the movement.

“How's Scott?” Peter called out as he came in from outside and Stiles jumped in surprise.

“Ah, he's doing well. He and Chris give their best,” he said lightly as he plastered a smile on his face before he turned around to look at Peter.

Peter studied his face carefully and Stiles smiled harder, his face almost in a grimace. The man laid the back of his hand against Stiles’ forehead and frowned.

“Are you feeling okay? You look a little flushed.”

Stiles gave him a weak smile. “I am feeling a little tired. The heat and all the walking earlier tired me out more than I thought it would,” he admitted with semi-truthfulness.

“Okay, why don't you go lie down a bit under the fan and cool off. I'll bring you something cool to drink. Do you want some fresh squeezed juice?”

Stiles hesitated as he thought about how he felt. “Yeah, I think that would be okay for my stomach. Umm, maybe only a small glass though, just-in-case,” he suggested. “Thanks,” he added as he gave a small more genuine smile.

Peter returned it. “No problem,” he said lightly. “Go lie down, I'll be in there shortly.”

 

Stiles slowly waded out into the crystal blue water. Peter had headed back up to the house to get dinner started as Stiles opted to get one last swim in for the evening. The model pondered his issues with being thought of as a gold-digger and did it really matter what people thought when Peter himself didn’t seem to show any care. Then again, Peter rarely bothered with what anyone else thought Stiles admitted with a snort as he began to swim.

The model rolled over on his back and gazed up at the pinkening sky as he slowly dragged his hands through the warm water. Scott seemed content and happy with Chris regardless of what is written about the two of them. In fact, he seemed to find the whole issue as hilarious and entertaining. Stiles being married to his husband’s best friend were just the icing on the cake.

Stiles reflected a little more as he hummed under his breath. If he was honest, it probably had more to do with the fact that he had worked so hard to get where he was at with school and his studies and to suddenly be only thought of only as an air-headed model looking for a sugar daddy made him disgruntled.

“Bah,” Stiles said loudly to the empty ocean as he smacked the water. “Fuck them. I know who I am and so does my friends and family.” With this admittance, Stiles rolled over and swam back to shore.

 

***

 

Stiles felt a little self-conscious. His belly had finally popped at close to six months. The doctor had said he was carrying so high that it's not unusual for such a late showing. He had felt the baby awhile now, and Peter has even managed to catch a couple of good moments too. They've managed to keep his pregnancy under wraps, but both figured that'll soon come to an end. The surprise wedding was enough to cause a stir of speculation, but Scott's own surprise pregnancy announcement drew the attention away quickly enough.

Stiles pulled Peter’s oversized navy cardigan higher up to shield his body, the bag conveniently placed across his front and bright platinum and diamond wedding band on full display. As flashbulbs popped in his face, Peter kept a firm grasp on his elbow and guided him protectively through the paparazzi at the airport. Twenty intense minutes later and they'd arrived at their car only to spend another ten to just clear the chaos. As the noise faded into the background, Stiles relaxed back into the seat.

Peter brought Stiles’ hand up to his mouth and placed a kiss along the back of it before he placed it in his lap. Stiles gave him a wan smile in return before it morphed into a big yawn.

“Sorry,” he said with a laugh, “that just snuck up on me.”

Peter looked at him with amusement as he rubbed his thumb back and forth across the back of Stiles’ hand. “It's fine, to be expected naturally.”

“I assume you're ready for bed?” he continued and Stiles response was to yawn again, a sheepish look on his face when he finished.

 

***

 

It's sometime between classes two weeks later that Stiles is caught unaware and had his photo taken. Normally covered in an oversized cardigan he'd taken it off when he started to overheat. It's not long before Twitter was exploding over his “secret pregnancy”. Stiles was oblivious to the attention until he's met at the school entrance by Peter and David.

Confused, he slid into the back of the car and gave his husband a kiss in greeting.

“Hey, not that this isn't nice, but why are you here?” he asked the man as he buckled himself in.

Peter raised his brow. “Why haven't you been answering your phone?”

Stiles looked back at him in confusion. “I left my charger at home and it died,” he admitted. “Why? What's going on? Is it Scott? Is he okay?” he asked in alarm as he twisted around to get a better look at Peter.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Your bestie is fine if not a little frantic that he couldn't get a hold of you,” he snorted. Peter reached into his inner suit pocket. “Here, he's calling again. It's for you,” he said as he pushed the vibrating phone into Stiles’ hand.

Stiles blinked at the phone in bemusement before he swiped to answer. “Hello,” he said hesitantly. “Scott, what's going on?”

“Yeah, I'm fine, why wouldn't I be? I'm what?!?” he exclaimed in horror as he looked down at his stomach and back up to Peter.

Peter merely raised his brows as he settled back into his seat, hand hooked along Stiles’ inner thigh and thumb idly rubbing back and forth in a familiar pattern on his leg.

After a few more minutes, Stiles ended the call. “Well, fuck,” he exclaimed as he looked down at his stomach again and ran his hand through his suddenly sweaty hair.

“David, can you pull over somewhere quickly. I believe my husband is about to be ill,” Peter said dryly and Stiles looked at the man with a startled look.

A notification flashed across the phone screen and when Stiles read it, he clamped a hand over his mouth. The car drew smoothly to a halt along the side of the road, and Peter reached over to open the door just as Stiles leaned out and threw up.

 

Stiles isn't surprised that Peter’s family is cooler towards him after their surprise wedding. It still hurt, but at least it's not completely unexpected. It looked like they fell for the charms of Peter's ex too.

“What's he trying to do?” Cora asked Derek as they watched Stiles as he walked around their yard with his phone in the air and a hand braced against his lower back.

Derek shrugged back. “Looks like he's trying to get a signal.”

 

Stiles stumbled around the Hale’s front yard until he had a bar show up on his cell. _One single fucking bar._ Quickly he hit the number for Lydia's cell.

“Stiles? Where are you? Why haven't you answered any of my calls?” his agent demanded.

“I'm visiting Peter's family,” he said loudly into the phone.

“No need to yell, I can hear you fine,” she said irritably into the phone.

“Sorry,” Stiles apologized before he continued in a quieter voice. “I'm in a...preserve?” he said as he looked around him. “What's so urgent that you left multiple texts and voicemails?”

Lydia sniffed loudly. “I almost don't want to tell you now, but I will. Saint Laurent and Valentino have both reached out to me in regards to you being the exclusive face of their new men's maternity line.”

Stunned Stiles’ legs buckled and he sat down heavily on the ground. There's a shout behind him, but he's too focused on Lydia to pay attention and the noise barely registered.

“I'm sorry, what?” he asked blankly, his mouth agape as he sat there on his ass next to a bed of pretty brightly colored flowers.

Lydia repeated her words, but Stiles still can't process what she's said. Suddenly, Peter squatted in front of him and Stiles looked at his husband in confusion.

“Stiles! Stiles! What's wrong? Are you hurt?” Peter demanded breathlessly as he ran his hands over the man and Stiles shook his head slowly in bewilderment.

“No?” he replied, more of a question than a statement, though, still unsure why Peter looked at him in concern.

“Jesus,” Peter groaned and raised his head up to yell back toward the house.

Stiles tried to focus on what Lydia said but Peter was being distracting and his nerves were suddenly jumping at Lydia’s news.

“Lydia, can I call you back?” he interrupted his agent. “Sorry, I gotta go. Yeah, I'll call back shortly. I just need to take care of something.”

After he hung up the phone he looked wide-eyed up at Peter, who looked back at him in concern. Stiles opened his mouth to ask Peter what was wrong, but instead turned his head and promptly threw up in Talia’s irises.

 

After washing down the Irises and surrounding area and going upstairs to check on his husband only to find the man passed out, Peter wearily grabbed himself a beer from the fridge. When he closed the door it was to find Talia relaxed against the counter with arms crossed casually.

“Are you going to explain what that was all about?” she asked her brother lightly.

Peter shrugged his shoulders as he rustled around one of the drawers in search of a bottle opener. “Stiles’ agent called with some unexpected news that surprised him. Stiles tends to throw up when he's surprised.”

Talia raised her brows at this bit of news. Peter popped the cap off and took a sip of his beer. He leaned back against the kitchen island and waited for whatever his sister had to say next.

Talks pursed her lips in thought. “Peter, your elopement and the news of Stiles’ pregnancy took us by surprise. We, of course, wholeheartedly support you, but are you sure…” Talia winced at the direction of her question and left it hanging in the air instead of finishing it.

Peter gazed at her steadily as he took another sip. “Yes,” he said simply, “she's mine.”

Talia opened her mouth and shut it again.

Peter sighed and rubbed his neck. “Look, not that this is really any of your business, but Stiles said no to marrying me,” Peter said bluntly. “Several times in fact.”

Talia looked at him with a frown. “No? But you're still married. Obviously, he changed his mind unless the marriage is a lie?”

Peter gave a sharp bark of laughter. “No, we're definitely married. I made sure of it.”

At this admittance, Talia raised her brows again.

Peter continued with a grimace. “I didn't handle Stiles’ announcement well because of my previous experience with Theo. Stiles left and I chased after him. He refused my proposal, said it would be better to wait until we could do a DNA test so there wouldn't be a question. I said bullshit, I knew the exact day he became pregnant. I didn't bother with a condom.” Peter's face twisted into a wry smile. “Ironic, I know. Anyways, Stiles wouldn't listen. So one day I asked him out on a date and said we needed to swing by the courthouse because I needed to see a judge for a client. I insisted he come inside out of the heat since I didn't know how long it would take. His dad, Scott, Chris and Lydia were inside with a judge. I told him it would look bad to walk away now. He cried during our vows and yes, it was ugly,” Peter deadpanned. “Then he promptly threw up on the judge’s shoes,” Peter said with a fond chuckle as he looked down at his ring before he took another sip of his beer.

Talia blinked at him, stunned at his confession. “You ambushed and emotionally bribed your pregnant nineteen-year-old boyfriend into marrying you and he ugly cried and threw up on the judge’s shoes,” she summarized. “Jesus,” she said as she rubbed the side of her face in disbelief, “you two deserve each other.”

Peter raised his bottle in a mock salute to her.

 

***

 

The designer tsked loudly as she plucked and adjusted the shirt draped over Stiles’ body.

“Next time we will begin at the start of your pregnancy and shoot you in the clothes for all nine months,” the woman announced and Stiles looked at her in alarm.

“Next pregnancy!” he squeaked in horror. “How about I get through this pregnancy first! Besides this might be an only child,” he declared stubbornly.

The woman scoffed loudly. “Please, you and Hale will make beautiful babies. There'll be more.”

Stiles gaped at the crazy woman and placed his hands protectively over his stomach.

 

***

 

“What has got Scott all in a tizzy that he feels the need to blow up your phone?” Peter asked and Stiles looked up from his magazine puzzled.

Peter nodded at the Stiles' phone where it flashed and Stiles frowned as he picked it up to check.

“Oh, it's not Scott,” he said absent-mindedly as he cleared his notifications and set the phone back down.

Peter stared at Stiles’ head and when the phone lit up again and Stiles didn't notice he reached over and picked it up.

“Why is Theo Raeken asking you out?” Peter demanded in a harsh tone.

Startled Stiles looked up at his husband. “He's another model and wants to hang out I guess. I turn him down,” Stiles said as he warily watched Peter as the man scrolled through his messages.

“I don't want you or our baby around that snake,” Peter hissed out as he blocked Theo’s number.

Stiles raised his brow. “Do I get a reason as to why I am no longer supposed to spend time with my colleague?” he asked irritably.

Peter looked up with a closed off look. “He's my ex I told you about,” he stated flatly and Stiles felt his face pale.

“I'm serious, Stiles. I don't trust that man and neither, should you. Stay away from him.” With that last warning, Peter tossed Stiles’ phone back on the table, spun on his heel, and stalked out of the room.

Stiles stared in horror at his phone and placed a hand protectively over his stomach.

 

It took Stiles a few days to broach the subject, but he didn't want to leave the elephant in the room between them. Not on something so important. Earlier it had been simple, an out of sight, out of mind scenario so to speak. Now that he knew who the conniving ex is that could do that to someone they supposedly loved, Stiles felt ill at all the times he had spoken to the man and all the casual touches they had exchanged. Now the only touch he wanted was to punch the man in the balls he thought with a dark grimness as Peter stared blankly ahead after their conversation.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles apologized helplessly and Peter gave him a sharp look.

“Why should you be sorry?” he demanded. “Stiles, I never doubted you didn't know about mine and Theo’s connection. You're not a cruel person,” he said in a gentler tone as he reached out and grasped the man’s hand. “Don't ever apologize for something you have nothing to do with,” he said as he kissed the inside of Stiles' wrist.

Stiles nodded his head and leaned over to kiss Peter on his cheek. “I'm still sorry you had to experience it though,” he whispered as he laid his head against Peter’s shoulder.

Peter pulled him tight against his side and returned the kiss. “Thanks,” he said softly, “me too.”

 

***

 

When Stiles ran into Theo at a gala he felt a moment of vindictive satisfaction in the man’s frozen gaze on his wedding band.

“Theo,” Stiles greeted the man with faux innocence. “What's up?” he asked as he rested his left hand on top of the swell of his stomach. His daughter nudged against his palm and he smoothed a caress down his stomach.

Theo grimaced at him, his eyes still on the bold platinum and diamond band. “I guess it's really true. I figured it was greatly exaggerated.”

Stiles merely raised an eyebrow at the other model.

“So you're the lucky one who nailed down the great Peter Hale,” Theo continued with a sudden bitterness in his tone.

“And made an honest man out of me without deceit,” Peter said coolly as he stepped up behind Stiles and kissed the man on the side of his neck. “You should try it sometime, Raeken, you might succeed better in your relationships,” he mocked at the model.

Theo flushed and glared angrily at the older man.

“Goodbye, Theo,” Stiles said coolly and the model gave a curt nod before he spun around and stalked away.

 

***

 

Peter traced kisses along Stiles’ stomach. A tiny foot kicked at his mouth and the lawyer laughed into his husband’s skin. Stiles bit his bottom lip and watched as the man chased their baby's movement around his stomach, kisses placed on the spot every time a little fist or foot pushed out. Stiles carded his hand through Peter's hair and the man turned to kiss him on the wrist.

Stiles tugged lightly at Peter's hair.

“Kiss,” he demanded with a small pout, and the lawyer raised up to oblige him. One kiss soon became two which became a make out session and Stiles moved restlessly on the bed beneath Peter.

Peter laced his fingers with Stiles and drew the man's hands above his head. Stiles broke away for air with a gasp and arched up for friction when Peter kissed him under his jaw and along his neck. A desperate whine escaped Stiles as the man lowered his head and latched on one of Stiles’ nipples.

“Peter, please,” Stiles begged his husband.

Peter kissed his way back up to Stiles’ mouth where he licked his way in. When they broke apart Stiles looked up at the man in a daze.

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

Stiles licked his lips in confusion at the question.

Peter leaned forward and gave him a more gentle kiss before he pressed his forehead against Stiles’.

“Do you want a blowjob? A rim job? A handjob?” Peter offered. “Do you want to be penetrated or do you just want to get off?”

He leaned forward and placed another light kiss to the corner of Stiles’ mouth.

“Yes,” Stiles said hopefully and Peter chuckled at him.

“How about I start you off with a massage and we’ll go from there. You can tell me what you want or don't want as we go along okay, sweetheart,” Peter suggested as he pulled back.

Stiles nodded his head dumbly and watched as Peter went to retrieve some massage oil that is recommended for pregnant spouses.

As Peter rubbed oil into his skin, Stiles sunk into the mattress relaxed.  The baby had settled down, most likely asleep. Peter's hands were sure as they kneaded out any kinks and tight spots in Stiles’ muscles. It wasn't long before Stiles blinked sleepily up at his husband.

Peter trailed his hands towards Stiles inner thighs and Stiles happily hummed. He gasped out a low, “oh,” when he felt Peter's hot mouth encase his cock. It only took a few pulls from Peter’s mouth to chase away any drowsiness that Stiles' had been feeling.

A finger slid easily into his body and another joined soon after as Peter continued to bob his head up and down Stiles’ length. A crook of his fingers had Stiles' hands woven into Peter's hair as he restlessly moved his legs against the sheets as his arousal built. When Peter pushed his nose into Stiles’ pubic hair and pressed his fingers hard on Stiles’ prostate while he swallowed, Stiles cried out as his body bowed up from the mattress. He gasped and shook as Peter pulled off with a pop and he doesn't fight his husband when he eased into Stiles’ body. Stiles gazed up at Peter as the man slowly thrusts in and out of his body. Too relaxed to do much more, Stiles dropped his legs further open. "Come on, Peter," he whispered hoarsely. "Wanna see you come in me," he begged. Peter groaned at these words and leaned over for a hungry kiss. When they broke apart Peter groaned out a curse, his head thrown back as his hips stuttered. He gave a hoarse cry as his orgasm shook through him.

Peter hung his head for a moment as he recovered his breath, and Stiles reached up to cradle the man’s face. Sharp blue eyes met his own and Stiles leaned up and gave him a gentle kiss. Carefully Peter withdrew and pulled away.

Stiles stretched out his body while he waited for Peter to return with a washcloth. Content, he rolled over and burrowed his head into Peter's pillow. When Peter returned, he was already asleep.

 

When Stiles stumbled into the kitchen the morning after the gala it was to find some entertainment show on as it recapped the event from the night before. He made a face at the tv before he turned away to dig some breakfast out of the fridge. A phrase from the female host had him pop his head back out from behind the fridge door. On the screen was a picture of him and Peter.

Stiles blinked in bemusement at the shot. His husband was decidedly very predatory looking with his face close to Stiles’ ear and Stiles definitely looked like he is headed to a debauching. The low lighting of the room had managed to play up Kira’s makeup job and between the lined eyes and highlighted cheekbones, Stiles lowered eyes and slightly parted glossed lips the model looked like he was on the brink of a potential orgasm at any moment. The possessive hand on his hip and across his stomach gave a clear warning to anyone looking that Stiles belonged to Peter and only Peter.

“They’ve shown that on all the shows this morning,” Peter said as he strolled into the room to top off his coffee.

Stiles started, hand reflexively lay across his stomach as protection.

Peter came up and kissed him on his neck. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he said as he placed another kiss a little lower.

Stiles' eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into Peter’s hold. “It’s fine,” he replied back, head twisted so he could capture Peter’s mouth for a kiss.

“When was that even taken?” he asked in puzzlement after he broke away for some air.

Peter shrugged. “I think I was telling you about what I was thinking of doing to do you in the limo later,” he said with a leer as he squeezed Stiles’ ass.

Stiles felt a flush in his cheeks as he thought back to his husband’s words and actions from the night before. Awkwardly, he coughed a little as he felt his cock start to become interested again. “Right,” he murmured to himself before he ducked back behind the fridge to cool his suddenly overheated skin.

Peter wandered over to the coffee pot and refilled his mug. As he walked back by he patted Stiles on the ass with a grin and Stiles squawked indignantly.

 

***

 

Stiles really shouldn’t be surprised when he finally does go into labor. They’re over at Scott and Chris’ to meet the new baby. Lillian Grace Argent is all dark hair and sleepy blue eyes in Stiles’ arms when the first probably not a Braxton-Hicks hit him. He quietly continued to hold the little girl and listen to Scott as he chattered on as he waited to see what happened next. A short time later, another one began and he held his breath carefully.

“Dude,” Scott asked him, startled. “Did your stomach just contract?” he said and they both looked down at Stiles' stomach.

Peter and Chris’ conversation stopped abruptly from a few feet away.

“Stiles?” Peter asked in concern.

Stiles shrugged his shoulders. “Probably another Braxton-Hicks,” he said with uncertainty.  

Everyone eyed him and Stiles smiled back hesitantly. The smile slipped from his face after a second. “Or not,” he said with a look of disgust. “Sorry, Scotty,” he said apologetically, “I’ll buy you a new couch,” he added with a wince as he shifted Lillian back towards her father.

Confused, Scott took Lillian from Stiles.

“Peter, be a dear and grab the car,” Stiles gritted out through a sudden and painful contraction. “My water just broke and the contractions just sped up.”

 

A short fifty-one minutes later, Stiles held little Isis Lee Hale in his arms, Peter wrapped tightly around them both as the baby slept quietly under their watchful gazes.

“So that was quick,” Stiles admitted with a soft laugh and Peter grinned into his neck as he blinked back tears.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think we know how to do anything slow in this family,” he said fondly as he tightened his hold.

 

***

 

Stiles adjusted their daughter at his chest as she quietly nursed. When Peter came in, Stiles resolutely kept his eyes on where the tiny hand clutched tight around his finger.

“Hey,” Peter greeted as he bent down and placed a gentle kiss against Stiles’ temple. He reached over and lightly cupped the back of Isis’ soft downy head and the baby paused in her sucking before she continued. Peter turned and gave Stiles another kiss, this time on the mouth.

“So what did Dr. Deaton have to say? Everything healing correctly?”

Stiles blushed at the question and squirmed a little, accidentally jostling the baby, which caused her to squawk out in protest.

He shushed her lightly and made sure she latched back on. Peter frowned at Stiles’ behavior. “Stiles?”

Stiles cleared his throat, blush still high on his cheekbones. He mumbled something under his breath and Peter squinted at his husband.

“Stiles, what did Dr. Deaton have to say? I know you were late getting in for your postpartum checkup, but everything's okay right?”

Stiles nodded his head still avoiding eye contact. He opened his mouth to respond and licked his lips nervously instead.

“So,” Stiles began before he paused to clear his throat. “Dr. Deaton said I am healthy,” he said carefully before he stopped.

“And…” Peter prompted when Stiles didn't continue.

Stiles huffed his breath out. “And I'm pregnant,” he blurted out as he peeked at Peter from beneath his lashes.

Peter stared at him stunned. He opened up his mouth to ask and Stiles stared him down. He clamped his mouth shut quickly with a snap. Peter fumbled for a moment before he managed to sit on the edge of the coffee table.

“Okay,” the man said wide-eyed as he looked helplessly at his husband and their _twelve week old!_

“So...you're both healthy?” he asked and Stiles nodded a quick confirmation. “That's good, that's good,” Peter stumbled over his words as he rubbed his face in disbelief.

“There's more,” Stiles said with a cough and Peter raised his brow.

“More?”

Stiles reached into the pocket of his dress shirt and pulled out an ultrasound picture and handed it over. Peter took the picture and looked down in confusion, his mind having trouble processing what he is supposed to be looking at.

He studied the black-and-white picture and his face paled even further when he realized there was a baby-A and a baby-B circled and labeled for them. “Oh God, you meant there’s more than one baby!” he choked out stunned.

“Yeah, so,” Stiles coughed, “apparently people are more fertile right after giving birth,” he said lightly. “Probably should have paid more attention to that part,” he tacked on helpfully.

Peter studied the photo more closely. When his eyes drifted up to the words and times printed at the top he did a double-take. “10 weeks,” he blurted out in shock. He looked at their daughter, Stiles, the ultrasound and gaped like a fish.

Stiles smiled beatifically. “Surprise,” he murmured.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I kept wanting there to be more to this, but alas my muse wouldn't cooperate. So it is what it is. Sorry, it's lacking. I'm just done.
> 
> *Ignore the highlighted/linked words. Every time I manage to get one to disappear, a new one appears. Hopefully I'll get it fixed soon.


End file.
